Dreams of Grandeur
by Mr. Grimm
Summary: CHAPTERS 2&3 ARE FINALLY UP!!! Sorry for the wait. It's been a long summer, but I finally found time to write. Thought it was over for the siege team? Well, it isn't. Richard Storm now must lead a mission on a search for what the zerg are really after.
1. The Beginning

All the characters in this story are MINE!! But Starcraft and the Starcraft units, terms, etc. belong to Blizzard Entertainment.  
  
It was a slow day for Richard Storm. He'd been on perimeter duty for nearly six hours now. And the rain helped his visibility as much as his partner's incessant rambling helped his sanity. As much as he loved his siege tank, he couldn't stand the moron he had to share it with. Lucas Finch was fresh out of the academy and was a real pain in the neck.  
  
"Man, when I get my hands on them monsters, they'll wish they never came to this here place I'll tell you what. Yessir, I'd beat 'em up so good they never come back here I say." he continued with his long-drawn Southern accent. On and on and on. Nonstop. For the entire six hours. Oftentimes, Richard wondered how his partner's tiny brain could possibly keep up with that mouth.  
  
"I gotta get outta here," Storm mumbled as he lit up a cigarette.  
  
"Hey now, don't you light that cancer-causin' piece-a-crap in here! Did you know that tobacco causes all kinds of nasty stuff in your body? There's emphysema and cancer and."  
  
"Oh, shove it already!" Richard was a large man, even by military standards. Six foot seven at a whopping 280 pounds, he was a foul mouth with a foul temper and today he was in an even fouler mood.  
  
"Alright, I see what this is. You just smoke up, I'm cool too you know. Why the stuff I did in school, wow! You really had to have been there, yeah."  
  
"Oh boy," Storm murmured as he drifted off to sleep.  
  
BLEEP! BLEEP! BLEEP! Storm sat straight up - and banged his head on the radar equipment.  
  
"Damn." he groaned, and then saw what was on the radar screen.  
  
"DAMN!" he bellowed. About 50 to 60 little white blips were approaching his position. Quickly, he jammed down the speaker button and shouted, "This is Lieutenant Richard Storm. We got a size 5 squad of 'lings coming in at one o' clock. Requesting permission to fire."  
  
"Fire at will, Lieutenant," came the response.  
  
Storm looked at his partner. The rookie was listening to a headset.  
  
"What the hell are you doing, Finch?!" roared Storm, "Arm the cannon, asshole!"  
  
"Done, big guy," the rookie said slyly, "Let's go round up some zerglings! Yee-HAH! Today is a good day to whup-ASS! Yessir! Damn, there sure is a bunch of 'em, though."  
  
"No shit, Sherlock," spat Richard, "Now get ready, I got some freaks to fry."  
  
And so they came. They were everywhere. Storm could see them approaching in the distance.  
  
"Almost in range." he murmured, "Almost. steady. FIRE!!!!"  
  
SHOOM!!!! Down went about two zerglings.  
  
"Dammit, they've evolved!" Storm jammed the speaker again and roared, "Need some back-up, Commander!"  
  
"Reinforcements are on the way, Lieutenant," came the response, "Try to hold up, OK?"  
  
"Alright, just get someone down here quick!"  
  
SHOOM!!!! Another two zerglings down. By this time, they'd just about reached the tank. They were atrocious, repulsive beasts with a lust for blood. Armed with plates of bone and monstrous scythe-like claws at their disposal, they were savagely efficient killing machines. As the horde of monsters descended upon the outpost, Storm slowly realized that this was a battle that could not be won. 


	2. The Rescue

"Oh my God! Oh my God! We're gonna die! We're gonna DIE!!!" Finch was hysterical. Storm could hardly believe what kind of state the rookie was in. Hadn't they prepared him for these exact kinds of scenarios in the academy?  
  
"Oh God! I don't wanna DIE!!! I'm too young to die!!!" Finch threw himself at Storm, grabbing at the lieutenant's collar.  
  
"Oh! I know! We'll change back! That's it! We'll change back to tank mode and we'll run! That's it, we'll run! They can't blame us for tryin' to survive right? Right?" Finch was getting worse by the second. Suddenly, he dashed for the controls, babbling about how surviving was not cowardly. Storm reached over and slammed him back into his seat.  
  
"If we change back we're done for. They've got us surrounded and they're under our range. All we can do is wait for reinforcements," Storm said gravenly.  
  
"Wait?! You want us to wait?! WE'RE GONNA DIE! I don't wanna DIE!! For Christ's sake, I'M STILL A VIRGIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Storm backhanded Finch into the wall, his face dark with rage.  
  
"SHUT IT, WILL YA?! WE'RE NOT GONNA DIE IF YOU KEEP COOL!!! DO YOU HEAR ME?!" Finch whimpered quietly as Storm bore down on him.  
  
"I'm sorry," he said meekly, "I came here hopin' to be a hero you know? I-I wanted my mama to be proud o' me, ya know? N-Now I'm gonna die and be n- nothin' but a spec on the f-face of history." Finch's laments slowly grew less coherent and less audible as he sank into his chair, sobbing uncontrollably.  
  
"Oh jeez." Storm muttered as he reached over to apologize. Abruptly, he was interrupted as a huge bone claw was thrust between him and Finch, missing his large hand by inches.  
  
"Oh SHIT!!!" Storm cried as a second claw followed. He quickly grabbed the fire extinguisher and smashed it against the claws, which retreated with a high-pitched screech of pain. Storm's victory was soon overshadowed as the sound of tearing metal grew louder and more hurried.  
  
"Finch! I could use a hand here!" Storm bashed a few more claws back, "Finch!!"  
  
The rookie continued to remain curled up in his chair, muttering to himself now about never experiencing the pleasures of life.  
  
"Dammit." Storm growled as he tossed what remained of the spent extinguisher out one of the many holes in his tank. A head appeared in the hole, salivating as it writhed, trying to bring its lethal claws to bear. Storm crunched his fists into the face of the zergling, using whatever force he could muster. The zergling shrieked and quickly withdrew. Numerous claws found entry into the tank now, ripping through the twisted metal.  
  
Wonder why they haven't hit the power tank yet, Storm wondered, and then was answered as a small explosion rocked the tank. There it goes.  
  
Storm followed Finch's example and collapsed into his seat, convinced that he and his rookie partner were going to die in a fiery ball of combusted vespene gas. He had just about given up all hope when the tearing and shredding suprisingly stopped.  
  
"What the f-" Storm began, but was cut off as the sweet sound of shrieking zerglings and canister explosions reached his ears. An oily slick voice made its way through the intercom.  
  
"You owe me one, you fat son-of-a-bitch!" the voice laughed through the radio.  
  
"Owe you one? I've pulled your ass outta the fire a dozen times! What about settin' you up with Janine cause you didn't have a date for the night off?" Storm roared back. He grinned as he saw the squad of vultures come into view through one of the holes in his tank.  
  
"Janine, shmanine. That worked out to jack-squat," responded the voice.  
  
"Only because you decided to screw a whore on a trip to the men's room!"  
  
"It's called a men's room for a reason, isn't it? If anything, I owe you one less, Richy-boy."  
  
"Hey, none o' that Ed-weirdo," Storm chuckled. Finch looked up from his seat with a quizzical "Huh?"  
  
"We ain't gonna die today after all. My bud, the Eddy on the speaker, managed to do something right for a change."  
  
"Ya know, I can still hear you." Eddy retorted.  
  
"So we'll be headin' back to base pretty soon," Storm continued, "Think you can handle it? Or do you need a stroller?" Finch grinned stupidly and began to start change sequence. Sparks flew from the controls, and something began to smoke badly.  
  
Storm cleared his throat. "Say Eddy, can we hitch a ride with you?"  
  
"That's two less now," came the response. 


	3. The Mission

After Ed and his team of vultures ran off the zerglings, Storm and Finch were escorted back to base. Both were seen in for minor injuries and Finch was made out for psychological reexamination. Storm was soon called into to see his superior officer, Major Dominic C. Volosovich.  
  
"Sir?" Storm announced as he walked into the spacious office. It was large, but overly crowded with shelves and books lining the walls and a very wide table taking up the majority of the floor space. It was there at the table that the major stood, poring over a map that lay there.  
  
"Yes, I need you to come over here. There's something I want you to see." The major's voice was stern and grave, even as Storm struggled to fit through and path he could find, knocking over a number of books and shelves.  
  
"Sorry sir," apologized Storm, stooping over to replace the clutter.  
  
"Don't bother. Just come here," Volosovich replied. Storm made his way over and followed the major's thin finger as it traced the map.  
  
"You were attacked here," he explained, pointing to Storm's former coordinates, "Any idea why?"  
  
"They were attempting to reach our base, sir," Storm answered.  
  
"That seems logical, but the attack was simultaneous with two other attacks here and here," he continued, tracing two other routes, "where the attacks were directed away from the base. Also, the attacks were done by nothing but zerglings, not exactly a force that would be used to attack someone, don't you think? So why do you suppose they attacked this way?"  
  
Storm pondered a moment. "They're after something, sir. All the attacks converge to one point," Storm landed his finger at the central coordinate.  
  
"Ah, very perceptive, Richard. I knew I was right in promoting you," Volosovich grinned slightly. He stood up and looked up at Storm, who followed his example.  
  
"I need you to take a team to that point, find out what the zerg are hunting for, and bring it back here. We may be able to use it for ourselves."  
  
"Yes, sir," Storm saluted and made his way back to the doorway.  
  
"Oh, and one more thing," Volosovich added, "be nice to the rookie, you'll need every man you can take on this mission. We have no idea what's out there." Storm nodded and walked out.  
  
At the debriefing room.  
  
"Alright, we don't know what's out there, so we're going in to find out," Storm explained to his team. They consisted of Finch, who was just released from the psychiatric ward, Eddy, who was looking slyly at Natasha, one of the resident medics of the base, as well as several regular marines, and one ghost, whom Volosovich insisted Storm take.  
  
"We head out at daybreak. That gives you three hours to prep and maybe even get some sleep. We'll need all we got for this. Dismissed," Storm saluted to his team and headed over to talk to Eddy.  
  
"Hey, big guy," Eddy greeted him as he came over, "I know what you're thinkin'. Don't worry, Betty's all ready for you." Eddy chuckled.  
  
"Thanks man," Storm sighed, "I can't remember the last time I had a go with Betty. I might be a little rusty."  
  
"Don't worry, I kept her in good shape for ya," Eddy began to laugh wildly.  
  
"Who's Betty?" asked Finch. He came over from the door after hearing the Eddy's loud snickers.  
  
"Well then. Let's go take him to meet Betty," Storm laughed heartily, resting his arm on Finch's shoulder. He and Eddy guided Finch over to the storage shed. Eddy reached over and keyed in the code for his locker. The door opened with a hiss to reveal a mess of equipment, several pornographic magazines, and in the center, Betty.  
  
"Wow." Finch gasped. Seven and a half feet tall, Betty was massive.  
  
"You were a firebat?" Finch's jaw hung open in awe as he stared at the reddish brown metal suit of armor. The tanks of condensed vespene gleamed brand new. The nozzles and the tubes were cleaned out, the entire suit had a new coat of polish. And across the shoulder of the left arm in painted white stood out one word: Betty.  
  
"Told ya I kept her good shape," Eddy grinned, "Those tanks are new, just bought 'em today when you called us in for the mission. That's three ya know."  
  
"Alright, alright," Storm patted Eddy on the back, "You guys better get ready. I got some catching up to do." 


End file.
